


you just hit different

by yoongoogles



Series: Kiss Kiss Fall in Love! [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: But fun, Choi San is Hot, Choi San is Whipped, Drabble, Drinking Games, Explicit Language, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Gay Chicken, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Park Seonghwa-centric, Prompt Fill, This Is STUPID, and maybe woojoong idk ok, drunk ateez, hongjoong is blasted as fuck, like? squint for jongwoo, wooyoung annoying seonghwa for 4k words straight, wooyoung is basically a cult leader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24930553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoongoogles/pseuds/yoongoogles
Summary: Park Seonghwa hates his friends.Choi San has a crush.Jung Wooyoung wants to watch the world burn with Seonghwa at the center of it.
Relationships: Choi San & Park Seonghwa
Series: Kiss Kiss Fall in Love! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809547
Comments: 13
Kudos: 89





	you just hit different

**Author's Note:**

> how long are drabbles supposed to be again
> 
> atiny, hello! this is my first ateez fic, i hope you like it. if the response is good, i think i might want to make this a drabble series with other pairings. if you'd like that, let me know and give me ship suggestions. <3 thank you for reading!

If Seonghwa had a dollar for every time his friends forced him into participating in games he hates purely to embarrass the living shit out of him, he’d surpass Jeff Bezos as the world’s richest man alive. 

  
  
  
  
  


It’s Friday night, yet another thing Seonghwa would actually throw himself out of a moving vehicle to avoid, and six of his best friends are edging the point of borderline drunk or absolutely trashed. He and Jongho sit outside of the circle, each lounging in their respective chairs well out of reach from everyone else. Wooyoung is in the center of the circle holding an unopened bottle of soju, streamers attached to his iridescent fairy wings swishing every time he makes a dramatic gesture. 

“Knights and maidens, may I have your fucking attention?” Wooyoung adjusts the paper crown on his head, smudged with crayon lines and splotches of water stains from the table.

“Aye!” All six yell in unison, lifting their empty shot glasses towards him. They’re all scarily focused on Wooyoung, some with glassy eyes and shaking arms. Seonghwa thinks that anyone who didn’t know them would probably mistake this for a cult.

“It is time.” Wooyoung twists the soju bottle in his hands, popping the top and raising it high above his head in a flourish to cheers and scattered applause. He smiles down at everyone like a gremlin, pleased with his audience for hyping him exactly the way he likes. Wooyoung plays it up, one hand cuffed around his ear for volume control. Beside Seonghwa, Jongho scoffs and leans into the back of his chair heavily. 

“Time for what, oh great King?” San, who is holding his liquor a hell of a lot better than everyone else, goads Wooyoung and gestures for him to carry on. The room quiets, air suctioned out of the space around them as they diligently wait for Wooyoung’s announcement. 

“I heard a rumor,” Wooyoung bends his knees, meeting each of their eyes with manic intention. “That we have a chicken amongst us.” 

“Reveal the chicken! Reveal the chicken!” A chorus of low chanting begins as Wooyoung fills their glasses, nearly emptying their seventh soju bottle of the night. Jongho relaxes, no longer interested in the final game of the evening. They’ve run through all the classics, had more than two intense debates that nearly turned violent, and have exhausted all of their snack and alcohol supply. It is a closing ceremony that Jongho and Seonghwa have managed to maintain fairly well. Chicken can get a bit overwhelming even for avid players, so it usually fizzles out whenever it’s San or Mingi’s turn. 

“Silence!” Wooyoung calls when he’s finished, one finger held to his lips and eyes comically widened. The room hushes at his command and Hongjoong hiccups before he scoots backwards to lean against Seonghwa’s legs. Seonghwa worries for him only momentarily, and promptly pushes the brimming anxiety away when he remembers this whole thing was Hongjoong’s idea in the first place. He’ll suffer the consequences tomorrow morning and be fine by noon. 

“The rules are as follows: don’t touch Jongho.” Jongho half-heartedly pumps a fist in the air, preoccupied with scrolling twitter. “Hyung is fair game because he chose to sit out for _no reason._ ” Everyone turns to Seonghwa, accusations on the tips of their tongues and yet, one look shuts them all up except for Wooyoung. Hongjoong twists to blearily blink up at him, and Seonghwa softens just the tiniest bit to run his fingers through Hongjoong’s hair. “Yunho is first, let’s go!” Wooyoung slams the rest of the soju and drops the bottle to the middle of the floor, picking his way through bodies to get to Jongho. He settles in Jongho’s lap, who simply maneuvers him until he’s comfortable again and continues reading a thread on his phone. Seonghwa squints to check the time and is only slightly annoyed that the clock reads a half hour past 1am. 

Yunho gets on his knees and lays the bottle flat onto a piece of cardboard they’d ripped from a pizza box, playfully twirling it this way and that until he starts to get complaints. He flicks his wrist and the bottle spins fast, nearly flying off into Hongjoong’s lap. Seonghwa watches it slow, favoring San’s side of the circle. Between the two of them, the game would never end, so he desperately hopes it falls on poor Yeosang. 

It’s a direct land on Hongjoong, however. 

He does his best, truly. 

The solid warmth against Seonghwa’s legs becomes jelly, loosening until he’s splayed out on the ground. “‘M not a chick’n. C’mere.” He holds his arms straight up and purses his lips, eyes closed in blissful ignorance to the rest of the party looking at him with something like regret. Yunho shuffles over to Hongjoong and places his head on his stomach, patting at his thighs gently. Hongjoong tries to pull him up, loudly smacking his lips together to imitate kissy noises, but Yunho doesn’t budge from where his face is pressed into his belly. They all know it will only be a matter of time before he knocks out on the floor like that, so he’s eliminated from the rest of the game wordlessly. Seonghwa hands Yunho a pillow he’d been using as an armrest to prop underneath Hongjoong’s head; long blonde hair splays out as he yawns and shifts, cutely scrunching his face before relaxing and dropping off into dreamland.

Yeosang spins and lands on Wooyoung, who immediately slides from Jongho’s lap to the ground and stalks towards him on his hands and knees. He looks like a tiger, slowly approaching Yeosang until Yeosang’s nervous giggling turns into soft whimpers. Wooyoung backs him against the wall, straddling his legs and arching his back obscenely. Yeosang clams up in sheer panic as Wooyoung rubs their noses together, dropping his mouth open to brush their lips just as Yeosang screams “Chicken!” Wooyoung huffs and gets up as Yeosang sinks until he is level with the floor, staring straight up at the ceiling with heaving lungs. Seonghwa almost feels bad for him. 

Mingi’s turn lands on himself twice and Jongho the third time he spins. He gives up and curls up on the other side of Hongjoong, tossing a heavy arm across Hongjoong’s chest. Seonghwa leans forward to watch them, smiling even as he’s trapped by his drunken boys. Mingi cards his fingers through Yunho’s hair, tucking his head underneath Hongjoong’s chin. Yunho hasn’t quite dropped off yet, but his lungs are rising and falling in rhythm to Hongjoong’s. It seems they’ve used up the last of their energy during Wooyoung’s weird game ritual and for that, Seonghwa is grateful. 

That leaves San and Seonghwa. 

“I’m calling a truce, Woo.” San attempts to stand, stumbles, and sits back down prim and proper as if he hadn’t tried to get up at all. He smiles cutely at them. 

“Nah nah nah. Not how it works. I’m still in, hyung’s still in. Spin the fuckin’ bottle.” Wooyoung doesn’t even bother looking at either of them, focused on whatever he and Jongho are watching on his phone now. Seonghwa sighs, ready for the night to come to a close so he can put the boys to bed and head there himself. He’s considering combining his and Hongjoong’s beds together tonight just so he doesn’t roll off in his sleep and hurt himself. 

“Yeah, and what fun is that?” San whines, already conceding and reaching for the bottle. Seonghwa sits up in excitement, already imagining how it will feel to finally peel back the covers and get into bed peacefully. It’s going to land on Wooyoung, the fates just love San and Wooyoung like that. They’ll call a tie after fucking around for a little bit because neither of them will ever call chicken, and then Seonghwa will have to wake the slumbering giants to help him carry Hongjoong to bed. 

The bottle twirls on the cardboard, creating a skidding noise no one had noticed now that over half of them are down and out for the count. It grates Seonghwa’s nerves, the way glass meets cardboard and he seems to be the only one on edge.

A spike of adrenaline clogs Seonghwa’s airways when the bottle slows and does not stop, teasing him as it bounces from Wooyoung to Seonghwa until it rounds one final lap.

He breathes out.

He’s just about to lean down to shake Mingi alive when Wooyoung coughs into his fist, exaggerated and clearly a tactic to spark terror.

“Hold on.” Wooyoung meets Seonghwa’s eyes with an impish grin, and then the bastard _shakes his head._ “This is unacceptable. Hyung hasn’t played one game the entire night, I think he should take this one for the team.” 

“I refuse.” Seonghwa crosses his arms as he glares at Wooyoung, challenging him to argue. Wooyoung looks at him, mischievous, and Seonghwa can already sense that he’s preparing to bring out the works. He knows Seonghwa’s weak spots, the right buttons to push over and over until Seonghwa gives in. 

“Well, I’d say we’ve found the chicken.” Wooyoung smirks, leaning forward to stare mockingly into Seonghwa’s face. “Bawk bawk?” 

“Shut up, Woo.” Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “I’m not going to let San do anything when he’s this drunk and I’m sober.”

“Oh come on, it’s a game! Loosen up, hyung.” Wooyoung settles back against Jongho, wiggling in his lap until Jongho places an arm around his waist and pulls him tightly to his chest. “Do it, pussy, you won’t.”

“I’m not that drunk, hyung.” Seonghwa looks at San, playing with the carpet fibers in front of him. It’s true that they’re an affectionate group; San and Wooyoung cling to anyone with arms, even the members not fond of skinship don’t mind the extra weight of one of them in their laps. San, however, is not one to seek out Seonghwa very much. It used to sting, until Seonghwa realized San was hesitant to encroach on Seonghwa’s space because he was _intimidated._ He seems crestfallen, as though he considers Seonghwa’s reluctance a rejection instead of respect. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place - he can handle Wooyoung’s bullying, but he can’t survive the look of sadness on San’s face.

“Do it, hyung.” Yeosang encourages from the floor, still staring into space. 

“Et tu, Brute?” Seonghwa throws at Yeosang, who giggles and sits up like he is rising from death itself. 

“Yeah, you always call chicken before shit gets real, anyway. What’s the harm?” 

Drunk Yeosang has a point. If it gets San to stop pouting, Seonghwa will just have to give in. He has a literal barrier of human bodies in front of him, so if San gets past them, he’ll just pack it in and end the game. It’s been the most tame, anticlimactic round they’ve ever had so far. Nothing can be worse than the time Mingi actually got into Yunho’s boxers and Hongjoong had to sit between them for the rest of the night. No one talks about Yunho’s 21st Birthday Bash anymore.

“Alright you fuckers, god.” Seonghwa collapses against his chair, motioning for San to come to him. 

“Really?” San perks up immediately, bright grin and deep dimple clashing with Seonghwa’s soured mood. He really is so cute, it breaks Seonghwa’s heart. 

“Do your worst.” 

San stands successfully this time, if just a bit wobbly, and makes his way to Seonghwa’s chair. He keeps their eyes locked, and Seonghwa’s surprised to find San’s clearer than before the start of the game. He pauses as he runs into the first roadblock, which is Yunnho’s sideways body conjoined with Hongjoong’s that takes up most of the easy path to Seonghwa. He stands still for too long, clearly trying to calculate the best way to get around them. 

“Just go around, dumbass.” Wooyoung gestures to the back of Seonghwa’s chair and Seonghwa physically sees the lightbulb go off in San’s head.

Oh.

Oh, no.

San creeps around the sprawled mess at Seonghwa’s feet, nearly tripping and toppling over Yunho’s knees, and then he walks around to stand directly behind Seonghwa’s old recliner that doesn’t recline anymore. The backrest is tall, but nothing San won’t simply launch himself over to get into Seonghwa’s lap. 

“Hyungie~” San sings, resting his chin on the edge of the chair. One hand snakes around to run fingers through Seonghwa’s hair, brushing through the soft strands and soothing Seonghwa. He can relax, it’s just San. San knows his limits most of the time. 

He’s given no warning before San is vaulting the top of the chair and smoothly sliding into his lap, twisting this way and that until he’s facing him head on. When their eyes meet again, San smiles at him reassuringly, as though he is not poised to strike and send Seonghwa to an early grave. 

“How are you feeling, hyungie~” His voice lifts into a melodic tone as he settles his full weight onto Seonghwa, carefully balancing himself on Seonghwa’s thighs rather than pressing all of them together. 

“I’m fine.”

“Whoa, he executed that move so perfectly. Did you see that?” Wooyoung whisper-yells to Jongho, though Seonghwa’s focus fades out of everything except for San above him. 

“You’re just fine?” San pouts, plush lips pushing out enticingly as he inches forward. Seonghwa’s head jerks back into the safety of the chair, trying to put some distance between them. He could call chicken, he could end it all right now like he told himself he would, but that might be hurtful to San. He can handle a little more. 

“I am good.” Seonghwa sounds robotic even to his own ears, hands gripping the armrest so hard they are surely turning white. Every ounce of him is screaming to let go of the game, but there’s a small voice in the back of his head that won’t let him quit just yet. He _wants_ to see what his limits with San are. 

“I can make you better, you know.” San spreads his legs so he moves again, this time holding his weight just above where he knows Seonghwa’s cock is. They’ve never been this close before, Seonghwa can count his eyelashes and the marks on his face. “Can I give you a kiss, hyung?” 

His tone drips in saccharine, honey and all things sickly sweet. Seonghwa finds himself looking at San’s mouth with interest, noticing how pink and pretty his lips are. He’d never really considered kissing San before; it’s not that he wouldn’t want to, it’s just that he never thought there would be an opportunity to. 

And here it is.

San drops down in a slow grind, something that the rest wouldn’t even be able to tell is actually purposeful, and Seonghwa loses the last of his restraint. A single kiss wouldn’t hurt, it’s just a game, right?

He panics when San closes the distance too fast for Seonghwa to react and he tenses up, muscles locking and eyes widening just as San lands a peck in the center of his chin. He pulls back with a frown, disgruntled in his mistake. Seonghwa’s fidgety beneath him, uncomfortable with how intoxicated San actually seems to be. A simple little kiss now feels like an itch under his skin, all points of San’s body touching his burn with wrongness. 

“M’ sorry, hyung. Let me try again.” San attempts to lean forward, but Seonghwa’s hands fly to his waist and steady him. He braces against Seonghwa’s hold, who pushes him until he’s forced to straighten up. Confusion morphs to rejection, crystal clear on San’s beautiful face and Seonghwa feels sick. He hates hurting San more than anything, but it’s obvious he’s not in the right frame of mind for this. San’s eyes glisten like he’s going to overflow as he sits back on his heels, looking down at Seonghwa like for all the world he’s crumbling. 

“Chicken.” Seonghwa breathes out, just between the two of them. Wooyoung and Jongho have gone eerily quiet, giving them some form of pseudo privacy even as they sneak glances. Seonghwa pretends not to notice. 

“Yeah.” San dismounts him clumsily, nearly tripping over the mess of his friends dogpiled on each other at his feet. Seonghwa reaches for him but San flinches back, huffing out a noise of upset. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wait, Sannie-”

“It’s okay, hyung.” San waves him off, gingerly stepping around the boys and teetering dangerously over Hongjoong’s buried form. “I’m...bed.” He places one hand over the side of his face and once he’s cleared the mess of bodies, he rounds the corner to their bedrooms and disappears.

Deafening silence descends on the rest of the room, cacophonous and humid as guilt seizes Seonghwa. He feels awful for hurting San’s feelings, but he’d rather keep himself from feeling worse for taking advantage of his dongsaeng in this condition. 

Wooyoung clears his throat. 

“So, you know if he remembers this, you’re gonna have to like, ravage him to make it up to him.”

“Wooyoung, I’m going to super-glue your fucking mouth shut.” Seonghwa hurls himself over the side of his chair to grab for Wooyoung’s ankles, but Jongho anticipated the move and protectively shifts him away from Seonghwa’s reach. 

“Okay, that’s enough for tonight, I think.” Jongho sighs and shoves Wooyoung off of his lap, sticking his tongue out when he gets a scorned _“hey!”_ thrown at him. 

“Help me wake up the others.” 

Yeosang, who nodded off against the wall, startled awake when Wooyoung hit the floor. He helps them wake the others and usher them off to bed, Mingi draping himself over his back. Seonghwa manages to get Hongjoong up and, with Jongho’s help, carries him to their room. The cleaning will be for their future selves to deal with. 

Hongjoong’s head barely grazes his pillow before he’s out cold again, rolled to face Seonghwa and snoring cutely. Seonghwa stares at the ceiling and listens to him breathe, hands folded perfectly across his stomach as he tries to erase the phantom weight of San in his lap. If he had just come to his senses earlier, he would’ve taken Wooyoung’s verbal shaming and San’s minor objection far easier than _this._ The knowledge of how it feels to have his hands neatly on San’s tiny waist is imprinted in his brain, heat bubbling up in his torso even as remorse swallows him. He’s a terrible hyung, thinking that out of any of them, he could survive San rubbing up against him like a cat.

It’s strange; he’d never once thought too deeply about his members and their craving for physicality, but all he wants now is to wrap San in his arms and apologize. Things are beginning to click into place for him; the way San was already acting more careful with him than the others. San is the reigning champion of Chicken in that he has zero qualms about taking things too far with any of the members, but he’s never landed on Seonghwa before. Seonghwa’s watched him nearly dismantle Hongjoong and Yeosang, give Yunho and Mingi a run for their money, touch Wooyoung places Wooyoung’s never been touched in front of them. He’s a force to be reckoned with and yet, he was gentle, he was genuine in the careful way he handled Seonghwa. 

He has no idea how long the gay panic keeps him up, how many hours he’s been laying in the same position while Hongjoong makes the occasional noise or rolls over. It’s still dark outside, so it must not have been very long before his door creaks open. He glances at it, expecting one of the little ones to come traipsing in to demand space in his bed. San slips in under the cloak of darkness, just enough to close the door quietly behind him. His breath catches in his throat at the sight, San shy in his rumpled sleep clothes and rubbing at his eye. Seonghwa sits up, arms outstretched to urge San to come to him. 

“Sannie? What’s the matter?”

“Kept waking up. Wanna sleep with you.” He comes without trepidation, swinging his knee onto the edge of Seonghwa’s bed so he can crawl forward until he collapses on top of him. Seonghwa welcomes the warmth easily, wrapping both arms around San’s frame and kissing the top of his head. His hair smells like his shampoo, a mix of coconut and some floral note Seonghwa’s never been able to pin down but always reminds him of home. The guilt threatens to surge again but he shoves it down; if San kept grudges, they were quickly extinguished in the hopes of returning to some normalcy, and it seems Seonghwa’s already been forgiven. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes anyway, carding his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. It’s longer and silver, a complimentary color on San that shook up Seonghwa’s heart the first time he’d seen it. 

“S’fine, hyung. I know.” San sighs, long and content as he presses his nose to Seonghwa’s jaw. “Wasn’t good timing.” Seonghwa hums in agreement, relishing San’s sleepy cuddling. A thrill runs through him when San presses a light kiss to his jaw, and then another, and another. Seonghwa holds his breath as the print of San’s lips becomes more firm, opening just the slightest to make a lasting impression each time they meet skin. “I slept off those shots, you know?”

“Yeah?” Seonghwa’s voice shakes as San nuzzles the contour of his cheek, nose bumping along his face until he reaches his temple. The strain is more intense with how much more personal the affection feels, surrounded only by Hongjoong’s breathing and San’s sensual touching. Seonghwa doesn’t think he can hold back if San tries anything this time, doesn’t want to. He wants that kiss, damn it.

“Mmm, _hyung.”_ San’s tone drops into the deepest Seonghwa’s ever heard it, and he has to physically bite back a moan. “You’re so warm.” San pushes his forehead against Seonghwa’s temple, breathing hotly in his ear. 

“You’ve gotta stop, San.”

“Why?” Seonghwa can’t find a good enough excuse with San’s lips dragging sinfully against his skin, bottom lip catching on to his cheekbone and giving another kiss to it. 

“I,” Seonghwa’s words die in his mouth when San rounds him, pressing their noses together as he breathes in their shared air. This is a new kind of game, Seonghwa’s aware. A different type of chicken specifically designed to unravel him in their own little bubble. He’s not strong enough to resist that. 

  
Their breaths mingle between them, lips just barely brushing. Seonghwa’s chest tightens in anticipation, butterflies fluttering deep in his gut as San dips down and playfully pulls back again.

“You still want me to stop?”

“Yes.”

San’s enjoying the way Seonghwa stiffens beneath him, arms respectfully at his sides and straight so as to not cross boundaries. San lowers his whole body onto Seonghwa, sinking until he has no choice but to put his hands on him. They gather at either side of his hips, balling his shirt into his fists as he tries to turn his head away. 

“Make me.” 

Seonghwa groans loud enough that if Hongjoong were sober, he’d surely wake up, and he jolts upwards to crash their lips together. It’s fast and dirty from the very beginning, Seonghwa bullying his tongue into San’s mouth and shivering at the tingles ripping through him. San responds just as eagerly, one hand sneaking up to hold Seonghwa’s face in place as he takes control. He slows their pace, leisurely exploring Seonghwa’s mouth as Seonghwa slips a hand under his shirt to press against his lower back. Seonghwa can taste San’s toothpaste, a very vague hint of soju at the back of his tongue. His senses are on overload as he keens into San’s direction, kneading the skin under his fingertips. 

He’s kissing San. He’s kissing a mostly sober, soft with sleep San. In his bed. Four feet away from a blacked out Hongjoong. 

“Hyung,” San pulls back to suck on Seonghwa’s bottom lip, holding it between his teeth and scraping gently. Seonghwa shakes his head, having no idea what San wants to talk about right this second anyway, and lets out a growl when San releases his lip. He chases the sensation, frustrated when San backs up to hold himself just out of reach.

“What?” 

“Did you know?” 

Did he know. Did Seonghwa know the way San stole glances at him, notice how giggly and shy he’d get if Seonghwa paid him a compliment, see through San’s innocent looks when Seonghwa touches him even just in passing? Truthfully, no, he hadn’t known. 

That doesn’t change the fact that he does now. 

“No.” Seonghwa cradles the back of San’s head, pulling him back towards his face to press their foreheads together. “I just didn’t want you to do something you’d regret, Sannie.”

“But you’re so hot.” San whines, wiping out any remaining tension as he collapses on Seonghwa’s shoulder. 

“Go to sleep, you idiot.” Seonghwa places his palm over San’s face to move him to his neck, sighing in content when San buries himself there. He tugs the blankets around them, making sure to tuck in their sides so they’re cocooned together. 

“Wooyoung will never let us live this down.” 

“Wooyoung will find himself strapped to a chair with Joong in his lap if he doesn’t fuck off. No more chicken for a while.” Seonghwa smiles when San laughs, presses a final goodnight kiss to the bridge of his nose with as much feeling as possible. Now that his anxiety has lapsed, sleep waits at the edge of his consciousness and feeling as safe and warm as he does now with San bear hugging him, he gives in. 

Seonghwa wakes up to all five other members clustered around his doorway and taking several pictures of San drooling over Seonghwa’s neck, Hongjoong looking sickly but still muffling his laughter from the other bed. 

“Did you make up?” Wooyoung whispers, looking up from his phone screen with a wide smile. 

“More like they made out all night. Couldn’t fucking sleep a wink with those two playing kissy face at 4am. I don’t know what you guys got up to after I passed out but we’re having a discussion about this right after I throw up.” Hongjoong gets out of bed, almost faceplants into the floor when he stands up too fast and all the blood rushes to his head, and then points at Seonghwa. “I’m sure it’s your fault somehow but it’s cute and I hate it here.” 

“Whatever. Everyone get the fuck out.” Seonghwa lifts the covers around their heads until he hears disappointed murmurs and the door shutting. As soon as they’re alone, San blinks awake and stretches in Seonghwa’s embrace. 

“Hyung’s gonna kill us, isn’t he?”

"He's tiny, we can take him."

Seonghwa leans in to kiss him good morning, sighing in satisfaction at the way San sweetly arches into the kiss. Hongjoong can't kill them if he threatens to kill Wooyoung first, so he's going to take his time reassuring San that even if he tries, it's beyond worth it to him.

**Author's Note:**

> san i refuse to bias you please leave me and hongjoong & wooyoung alone.
> 
> this was just supposed to be a fun little thing to inspire me while I continue my WIPS and I did it in like 4 hours so I’m sorry if it seems rushed idk how to make things short. thank you for reading 🥺 
> 
> twitter: @yoontoagoblin


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